House of Cards
by Hallow Eve
Summary: House is about to meet his most difficult patient ever. And he may not come out of it alive. House M.D./Dark Knight crossover. CHAPTER SEVEN UP!In other words, UPDATED!
1. Escape

_Hm idea for this just came to me. I wasn't sure what category it should be in either but I figured... oh well. Anyway hope you like._

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He strode down the rainy walkway at a leisurely pace, humming a cheery tune. People stared as he walked by but he seemed oblivious to both them and the tattered straight jacket that he had balled up in one fist, the buckles swinging down with every step.

There was a little girl coming towards him, but still he walked slowly. From the small bright blue uniform she wore and the crisp condition of her clothing he could tell she was better off than most children. She was walking towards him obliviously, not paying the slightest attention to her surroundings. Her head was turned, her long brown ponytail swaying in the breeze, her brown eyes fixed on the mousy girl walking with her. She was laughing.

"Oh, come on, Jey. Everyone knows you like him," she was saying, her tiny voice teasing.

He stopped, looking at his surroundings, ignoring the two little girls coming steadily closer. Passerbys were still staring at this strange man, seeming out of place on the sidewalk next to the busy road. Happy banners from various posh stores, shone in the bright sunlight, beckoning to shoppers. Even from a distance you could see he wasn't normal. He was wearing a slightly dirty purple suit, a light green dress shirt showing underneath, with black pants and black gloves stretched tight over his fisted hands.

His hair was stringy and messy, dyed a dirty dark green. His face was smeared with white makeup, but still flashes of his skin showed, as though some had been wiped away. His eyes were rimmed with thick dark black eye makeup, tendrils spiking out from his eyes, as though it was actually alive. His lips were shiny and red, whatever makeup he had used spread across most of his mouth, highlighting the scars that stretched the corners of his mouth into a permanent smile.

Some of them caught his eye but quickly turned away. He hadn't exactly glared at them, there was just something unnerving in his calm gaze.

" Why don't you just ask him? I'm sure he would be--"

With a small _oomph_ she walked into the man. Rubbing her chin she glared up at him.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to push past him.

A hand grabbed her upper arm like a vise and she cried out in pain. She was whirled around to find herself face to face with the man. He had knelled down so he could look her in the eye and the corners of his mouth were turned down in a pouty frown, his eyes wide with fake compassion.

She whimpered, trying to pull her arm from his grasp, but he merely slid his hand down her wrist.

"Oh shh shhh shh shhh. I just want to talk."

His hand closed around her wrist and suddenly twisted to the side. She felt pain explode in her wrist and radiate up her arm and swore she heard a small crack. She opened her mouth to scream and his hand clamped over her lips. She gazed at him with wide frightened eyes, her breaths coming in little pants against his palm.

"You know, little girls shouldn't be walking around outside alone. It's too dangerous."

His eyes widened slightly and he licked the side of his mouth, his tongue passing over the scar.

"Let me tell you a little story. A little life lesson."

She tried to back up a step but he yanked hard on her injured arm and, with a muffled cry, she stepped forward again.

He reached into his velvet jacket and she saw something glint. Suddenly she was staring down the point of a small knife.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?" He licked his lips a little.

"I was out late one night with my son. My little boy. He had beautiful brown eyes and curly brown hair."

His hand ruffled her hair, messing her ponytail and letting her feel the hard handle of the knife as it passed over her locks. She glanced behind her frantically. Had Jey left her completely? The sidewalk was deserted.

"My wife and I had gotten a divorce you see," he said, tugging on her arm so that her eyes focused on his face again.

"That," he said airily, " is when your Mommy and Daddy don't like each other anymore. In fact they hate each other." He smoothed his hair back from his forehead with the hand still clutching the knife.

"And they leave each other." He lowered his voice dramatically on the last word.

"We were jumped. A pair of robbers grabbed us as we were walking home. They dragged us into an alley."

No, no, no, she didn't want to hear this. But her eyes stayed riveted to his face, afraid to blink.

"They did it for fun. They were sick." He gave a little laugh and squeezed tighter on her wrist. She sobbed.

"They killed him first you know. Stabbed his little body over and over again. And they made me watch as the light left his eyes. But not before they had made him watch as they carved my face into this."

He gestured at the scars with his knife.

"They stabbed me too and left me to die. They were laughing as they did it."

He pushed her away and she stumbled, choking on her tears.

"By the way," he said, in a tone as though he were asking for the weather, " where exactly am I? Not too far from Gotham, eh? I only wanted to ditch the police." He grinned.

"Orange just doesn't suit me."

Instead of answering she let out a frightened squeal and scampered away, howling and clutching her wrist. He sighed as he continued walking down the sidewalk. Wasn't there anything interesting here?

He stopped and stared up at the large building.

_Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital_

He smiled. This was going to be good. After all, he hadn't had a check up in quite some time.

He walked up the steps, whistling.

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_I may or may not discontinue this story. It just seemed like a good idea. I haven't seen any Joker/ House crossovers. I don't know what category to put it in either let me know if I chose the wrong one._

_Song I was listening to: Ghost Town by Shiny Toy Guns_


	2. Hiding

_Thank you to the four people who reviewed. _

_Also to The Alternative Source: I didn't know you liked the Joker. I think he's awesome of course. Greatest villain ever. I mean come on, Why so serious?, I got chills!_

_But to the people reading this I would like you to keep in mind that I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this story. I'm just letting it flow as it comes. Though if you have any good ideas on what you think should or could happen I'll gladly listen._

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Wilson walked through the glass door and into the office. One hand stuffed in his pocket and the other holding a clipboard tightly to his side, he looked the picture of casual confidence. Glancing around the room he strode over to the desk just as the door opened. He turned.

"Alright, where is he?"

Cuddy stood there, one hand holding the door open, the other placed on her hip. She was wearing a form fitting white short-sleeved shirt today with ruffles on the chest and a tight black knee length skirt. Her heels were black and strapped around her ankles.

She narrowed her eyes at him in exasperated anger.

"Good morning to you too." He turned to face her fully and leaned against the desk, partially sitting on it.

"Don't tell me that like you don't know where he is." She shook her head as she spoke, her mouth tightening into a frown.

He cocked his head to the side in a questioning way. "Where... who is?"

"House. He's already missed three and a half hours of clinic duty. I've got Foreman covering right now."

He tilted his head and looked at her in disbelief.

"What, you don't think I know where he is? If House wants to hide I don't think even I could find him."

She stared at him and he could see the mistrust in her gaze.

"Alright, just, if you see him tell him to come straight to my office." She sighed and backed out the door, walking down the hallway.

He watched her until she rounded the corner than shifted his clipboard up to view over his most recent patient's stats.

"Did you catch all that?"

From under the desk he heard someone shift and then House's voice, slightly muffled, say, "Yeah, yeah, the PMS princess wants me in her dungeon."

Wilson walked around the desk and peered under it to find House laying underneath, his knees bent so he could fit. His cane was lying next to him and his head was propped up by a little pillow. He had headphones in his ears, the cord leading to the ipod clutched in the hand resting on his stomach.

Wilson shifted, putting both hands in his pockets and staring at him.

"You know, staring at me won't make me want to get up and work. Although that might work for you, I dunno."

Wilson laughed a little. "No, I'm sure nothing more than an overdose of Vicoden could get you up actually wanting to do a little work."

House opened one eye slowly to stare up at Wilson.

"You know she's looking for you, House. You can't dodge her forever. You work at the same place as her for god's sake."

House stretched his back off the floor before settling back again. "Says you. And I'm offended by the use of you using God's name in vain. It's insulting to my beliefs." He yawned.

"You don't have any beliefs, House," Wilson said, wearily, "unless you believe in making everyone around you miserable."

In answer House lifted up his ipod to show Wilson, his eyes still shut, and swirled his thumb around the gray pad. Wilson heard the faint sounds of rock music emanating from the small ear buds.

He sighed before putting his chart on the desk and bending down, ripping one of the buds away from House's ear.

"She'll find you. She's out for your neck this time," he half shouted.

House frowned before opening his icy blue eyes and fixing them on Wilson.

Suddenly the frown was replaced by a sardonic smile.

"She can have my neck if I can have her--"

Foreman walked through the door. "House," he said, tiredly.

"We've got a new patient just come in."

With a grunt House lifted himself off the floor and from under the desk, hopping on one leg as he reached for his cane.

"Sorry, I'd love to help but I've just been told that I need to see Cuddy and that it's very urgent."

He hobbled to the door and had opened it when Foreman called out, "I just passed her in the hall and trust me I think you'd rather take the case than deal with her right now."

House closed the door after a moment and limped to Foreman, snatching the file from his hand.

"Fair point, Dr. Phil, since you're such the expert on people."

Foreman ignored the jab at his relationship and tapped the file.

" Twelve year old girl in fifth grade. Collapsed during recess. Suffering from abdominal pain."

House raised his eyebrows at him after scanning the report.

"And for that you brought her to me? She probably has a tummy ache. Tell her to take two Tylenol and go home."

"It's more than that. She was coughing up blood and we've run every test we could think of. She's clean. And should be perfectly healthy."

"Alright," House grumbled, opening the door. He limped down the hallway, report in his other hand and passed a man in a starched white doctor's coat, a cap pulled down low on the head, hiding the facial features. He glanced at the man but continued down the hall trying to shake off the prickling of unease he felt.

As he passed the man turned to watch him go, a smile lighting up his painted red lips.

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_Creepy. Hope you like._

_Song I was listening to: Roulette by System of a Down._


	3. Hunting

_Hello everybody. Due to several reviews I've received I feel I must tell you all a few things._

_First: I am not abandoning this story._

_Second: I know I have had a lack of updates. Please forgive me. I usually have school and then work to go to and am working on my other stories as well. Do not feel discouraged if I don't update as quickly as would have been preferred. To be honest I never expected it to be so popular. And yes, sooner or later the Joker will be his patient. You'll have to read to find out why. :)_

_Third: I have not attended medical school and at best have only a basic understanding of the human body and medicine. Do correct me if you have personal knowledge on these counts and I mess something up._

_Fourth: Enjoy the story. :)_

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"It could be an infection that caused a lung abscess. We should do a chest radiograph." Foreman stated as he walked beside House.

House ignored him, using his cane to jab the down arrow button of the elevator. In his other hand he held the patient's medical exam results and viewed them intently as the doors opened and he limped inside.

Foreman sighed, not even bothering to ask for an answer, and stepped in just as the doors closed.

House was silent, riffling through the pages in his hand as Foreman impatiently stared up at the block numbers to see the floors they were moving past. Seemingly unable to hold himself back any longer he turned to House.

"Is there a reason why it couldn't be a lung abscess?"

The doors opened and House limped out and across the lobby into the clinic, Foreman rushing to keep up.

He walked across the clinic to the front desk, his cane tapping the floor with each step.

With a flourish he threw the file in front of the two doctors who had been standing next to each other, deep in conversation, their faces an inch away from the other.

Startled they drew back and Chase glared at House as he snatched up the file. "You almost hit me in the face," he grumbled.

"My bad," House replied, grinning. " Hope I didn't interrupt anything important. God knows what happened last time I interrupted you two when you were together."

Cameron flushed bright red and hastily grabbed the file from Chase's slack grip, opening it as he coughed, looking embarrassed.

" About that, we--"

"Anyway, we think it might be a lung abscess, don't we Foreman?"

Foreman rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as Chase and Cameron poured over the file.

"But her physical examination revealed no fever, pleuritic chest pain, or altered sensorium, and she has shown no significant weight loss since her last check up," Chase said slowly, as his eyes roamed the papers.

Cameron scanned the report quickly before glancing back up at House. "Could be autoimmune."

House gazed around the clinic in an absentminded way as he answered, " Nope. Check the file, there was no bloody stool and, as we've already established, no weight loss."

"If it's still in the early stages then those symptoms may not have presented themselves yet. We can't rule it out," she argued.

House did a double take, grinning at something across the room, his eyes lighting up.

"If it's autoimmune, Goodpasture's Syndrome is most likely. Do a chest x-ray and an anti-agglomerate basement membrane test to confirm," he said in a distracted way before pushing Cameron aside to limp towards the back of the clinic. Cameron gazed after him, looking confused and outraged.

"Hello, Cuddy," he yelled as he reached her. She winced and gave him a withering look.

"I'm right next to you, you don't need to shout."

House hummed. " Well that's good. Of course you do pull off your age very well, considering. But then again any day now...." His eyes landed on the person she had been talking to and he whistled.

" Aw, for me, Cuddy? And it's not even my birthday yet. Tell me, do you have any 'special talents'?" he asked, giving the cop a lecherous smile. She looked taken aback and gazed at Cuddy uncertainly.

She glared at him. "She isn't a hooker, House. This is Officer Penwright." She turned back to her. " You'll have to forgive him, ma'am. Although he dosen't look it and certainly dosen't act like it, he's one of our hospital's best doctors," she said with a warm smile.

" Behave yourself," Cuddy muttered to him in an angry whisper. He grinned widely.

Penwright shook her head and fixed him with a stern gaze. She seemed to be considering him and finally looked away to Cuddy. " Thank you, for your cooperation, Miss Cuddy. I'm sure we'll catch him soon." With one final suspicious glance at House she turned on her heel and strode out the door.

As soon as she walked away Cuddy focused her attention on House. "Clinic duty. Now." She ordered.

He shrugged and limped over to an examination room, watching out of the corner of his eye for the moment she turned her back on him.

When she did he changed direction, walking to the entrance so he could step outside, turn the corner of the building, go through the hospital's main entrance, and up to his office.

Or a new hiding spot.

Whichever came first.

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_This is obviously set back to when House had Chase and Cameron working for him. It's a little while after House walked in on them in the closet. Thus the reference to what they were 'doing together'._

_Yes, I know it's short.. The next chapter will be bigger, promise. And may even be up tomorrow._

_Hope you like._

_Review please._

_Song I was listening to: Holiday by Green Day_


	4. Everybody Lies

_I'm sorry I've been gone so long but I've an announcement that I think will make you guys super happy._

_Starting now I will be updating this story every two weeks. Nice huh?_

_Because it occurred it me that you guys are great and don't deserve my laziness so on with the story :)_

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He had just gotten comfortable in the morgue when the door was pushed open, light spilling from the hallway and illuminating his new hiding spot.

He cracked an eye open and spotted Wilson coming down the stairs, seemingly unsurprised that his best friend would be laying on one of the sliding tables surrounded by dead bodies.

He reached House and paused, crossing his arms and staring down at him.

"What is it now? I can feel your disapproval from here."

Wilson snorted before meaningfully eying the black body bag on the floor on the other side of the table.

"Do you really think you should be laying there?" he said, arching an eyebrow.

House opened both eyes slowly and sat up, stretching his arms over his head before peering over the edge of his makeshift bed.

"You know something tells me he doesn't really mind." he said, yawning.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You are so going to hell."

House grinned and slipped off the table, reaching for his cane. "How did you know I'd be down here?"

Wilson watched House make his way over to chair next to a table laden with various chemicals.

"I thought to myself ' Where would I go if I were House?'--"

"And you didn't check the pharmacy?"

"-- and since you have such a sociable nature", Wilson continued, ignoring the interruption, "I figured I'd find you hiding in the dark somewhere where people rarely come."

"Yeah, well as long Cuddy didn't see you."

The door flew open and Cameron appeared, looking harried and out of breath.

"House?" she called, trying vainly to peer through the gloom.

"Not here," House yelled.

She made her way carefully down the stairs and paused as her eyes became adjusted to the dark.

"We have a problem," she stated reluctantly, looking pleadingly in the direction she had heard his voice. "The mother isn't letting us run the tests. She says she thinks we've put her daughter through enough. She doesn't trust us."

"I thought you were supposed to be a warm fuzzy people person. Like Wilson." House said in a fake awed voice.

"Hey," Wilson interjected, looking offended. "Just because I get along better with people than you do--"

"Did you explain the tests to her?" House supplied, cutting him off.

"Yes, but she won't let us near the girl now. Not even to check her temperature."

House gave a long suffering sigh as he hefted himself out of his chair and ambled to the stairs. "We should really pay you guys less. What good are you if you can't even get the parents consent?"

Cameron looked affronted and opened her mouth to reply when the overhead lights flickered on, blinding her momentarily.

House grinned before taking his hand away from the light switch and closing the door.

HJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJHJH

House limped down the hallway, studying the woman looking through the glass into his patient's room.

She was wearing an immaculate light blue suit with black heels and a diamond necklace that could have probably bought a mansion. She was thin to the point of being bony and had her arms crossed defensively as she stared at her daughter. Her hair was scraped back into a tight ponytail that swayed as she turned toward him and narrowed her eyes.

"I take it you are Doctor House?" she sniffed and though he was taller she tilted her head up and stared down her nose at him.

He gave her a charming smile, or what he thought was one; he didn't really do charming, and leaned onto his cane. "Yup. And I take it you are the mother that doesn't care about her daughter?"

The woman bristled. "How dare you! Of course I care about my--"

"And yet you won't let us run any tests to find out what's wrong with her?" he asked, his light blue eyes piercing.

The woman seemed to shrink a little under his reproachful stare and looked abashed before shaking her head and giving him a weak glare.

"All you are doing is putting her under unnecessary strain. All these tests you've already done and you still don't know why she's sick." she said stubbornly.

"And we still won't know unless you let us run the tests," he said as though he were explaining two plus two equaled four.

She straightened, squaring her shoulders. "No. No more tests, no more medication, no more theories." she said firmly. "And I don't want any of you to even so much as talk to her."

House pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on.

"Tomorrow I am signing her out of this hospital full of unqualified _doctors_," she spat the word like it was curse, "and taking her somewhere else."

She turned on her heel and strode down the corridor, knocking into another doctor who had a cap pulled down low on his head, obscuring his face from view.

He watched her go and then opened the door and stepped into his patient's room, closing the door quietly behind him. He closed the blinds and then made his way over to a chair next to her bed, plopping himself down before looking her over.

She was a tiny thing for a twelve year old. She was wearing the standard hospital gown, the blanket and sheet tucked under her arms. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, a few sweat soaked tendrils plastered to her cheeks. Her breathing was labored and her face was a slight pink. She cried out in her sleep, her eyes moving restlessly beneath closed lids. Whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn't pleasant.

He slammed the side of his cane against the metal handrail and she jumped awake, her eyes fluttering, panicked, around the room.

When she spotted House she pushed herself upright, regarding him warily.

House was staring at her left hand, which had a faint purple ring around the wrist. Seeing where his gaze was she carefully pushed her hand under her leg, concealing the mark and he noted how her face tightened as she did.

"What do you want?" she asked, her small voice impassive.

"Well it would be nice to know why you lied to my staff and told your mother you coughed up blood."

"Wha-what do you mean?" she stammered, averting her eyes from his.

"Your left wrist is broken isn't it?" He gazed at her intently.

"No it's--," she gulped and her eyes filled with tears. "It's not."

Before he could say another word, she burst out crying, cradling her left hand against her chest.

"Why did you lie?"

"B-because," she bawled, "I was skipping school with my friend when it was b-broken and I couldn't tell you."

"We wouldn't have said anything to your mother," he said softly, reaching out and carefully pulling her left arm out.

She hiccuped but didn't reply as he examined her wrist.

"Fractured in two places," he murmured. He relinquished her arm and pushed his chair away from her bed.

House got up and leaned heavily on his cane. "You could have still told us," he muttered grumpily.

He was at the door before he heard her soft voice speak in barely a whisper.

"I couldn't. He said he'd kill me."

His hand froze on the knob as he turned to her. She was hugging her knees, her watery eyes frightened.

"Who told you that?"

Her tiny face crumpled in despair. "The--"

Suddenly her body trembled and her eyes grew wide. She gagged as her body was wracked by tremors.

She gave a great cough and blood dribbled down her lips, spattering against the crisp white bedspread.

House cursed as he limped over to her, not noticing that through a crack in the blinds a brown eye caked with black makeup was watching him.

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_I couldn't remember what color the Joker's eyes were but I think in the movie they were brown. Sorry if I'm wrong._

_Song I was listening to: Gives You Hell by All American Rejects._


	5. Who Would

_Hello again. As promised my next chapter is here. I made no promises on how long it would be however so we'll see._

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_Thump._

House tilted his chair back and stared up at the ceiling of his office.

_Thump._

The glass door swung open and Foreman trudged in, followed by Chase and Cameron.

The red and gray ball hit the side of the wall with another loud _thump_ and ricocheted back. House reached up and, with well practiced ease, casually plucked it from the air.

"She's in stable condition now," Foreman stated.

House dropped the ball, letting it roll across the floor. Resting his elbows on his desk he leaned forward, his chin touching his interlocked hands as he fixed them all with an even stare.

"Do we have a reason for why she coughed blood? That is, now that she actually _is_ spewing blood."

Cameron tentatively shook her head.

House leaned back once more, his eyes traveling aimlessly across the ceiling.

Foreman stared at House expectantly while Chase crossed his arms and leaned against the glass wall, minding the blinds. Cameron's gaze flitted to and from House nervously.

"She was," House said slowly, " terrified. She--"

"Hannah." Cameron interrupted and flushed when House sent her a look.

"Hannah," he resumed, rolling his eyes, " said that she couldn't tell anyone. She said that someone was trying to kill her."

"Could it be the parents?" Cameron asked.

"Why would it be the parents?" Chase questioned, staring at the brunette doctor incredulously.

"Well, why wouldn't it be?" she shot back, her eyes flashing. "If the father is molesting his daughter it's more than likely that he threatened her not to tell anyone. It would explain why she was so scared to tell us about her arm."

"And the mother would go along with it?" Chase gave her a patronizing smile.

"Well maybe she doesn't know," she said defensively.

"Guys, guys" Foreman interjected, raising his hands in a gesture of peace and smiling. "you're getting carried away. What makes you think she isn't lying?"

"Well what makes you think she is?" Cameron said, staring at him as thought she could not believe her eyes.

"She's only ten. Most kids when they get in trouble will lie. I used to do it all the time. Besides who would want to do away with a little girl?" He gave them a smug grin.

"You know," House piped up, having watched the whole argument unfold with interest. "not every kid needs to lie to avoid juvie. Some kids don't have records."

The smile slid off Foreman's face and he glared at House.

The door opened again and Chase stumbled as he was pushed to the side. Cuddy marched up to House's desk. When she reached him she straightened and crossed her arms, glaring down at him.

She opened her mouth and--

"He did it!" House yelled pointing at Foreman, his eyes wide and innocent.

Cuddy arched an eyebrow. "You don't even know what I'm about to say."

"No." House agreed. "But I know he could be blamed for it."

She sighed and held out one hand. "Look I don't even want to know why you would break into my office and steal your own file but I need it back."

House shrugged, slumping down into his chair and twirling his cane with one hand he gazed at Cuddy dismissively.

"Well, I don't know why I would steal it either. Because I didn't."

"Right," Cuddy smirked. "Well when you decide that you'd like to play nice today I want it back on my desk. Don't think I'm letting this go, House."

"Yeah, yeah," House replied in a bored voice, " Don't you have other people you need to shove your breasts at?"

Cuddy glanced down self consciously before frowning at House and turning around, walking to the door.

"I want that file back House. And I'll get it by the end of the day." She gave him a knowing smile, a challenge in her tone before backing out the door and taking off down the hallway.

"Why would you steal your own file?" Cameron asked, curious.

He raised his eyes to her and the blue in them seemed over bright.

"I didn't."

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_Who would I wonder? ;)_

_Hope this wasn't complete crap._

_Song I was Listening to: When The Sun Goes Down by the Arctic Monkeys._


	6. NOTICE

_New chapter. Whee._

_In response to one review I've gotten I have to say that the Joker isn't just going to automatically start off being his patient. So please be patient (no pun intended)._

_Not sure what else to say except thank you to all reviewers! You all are what makes me keep writing instead of being lazy. So review! Or I might slip back into being lazy...._

* * *

House leaned back, ignoring the incredulous look Cameron shot him and when she leaned over to whisper something to Chase.

"Well, if you didn't take it, who would?" Foreman scoffed.

"Santa?" House suggested, "Making sure I'm a good boy this year?"

His statement was met with silence as all three of his coworkers gazed at him as though questioning his sanity. He shrugged dismissively. "I don't know who took it. But instead of asking me about a damn file maybe you should all be doing your job and trying to figure out why a little girl is dying."

Cameron flushed guiltily and looked away, her eyes flitting around the room to land on everything but House while Foreman bit his lip, frowning. Chase visibly bristled, scowling at House. "Are you honestly telling us you don't care who took your file, House? Or what they would what with it?"

House smiled slightly, putting both hands on the top of his cane and leaning forward so that his chin touched the back of his hands. "Nope," he replied, "Not unless it's a hot nurse trying to find out my phone number."

He took one hand away from his cane to cross his fingers, gazing up at the ceiling hopefully as though praying.

Cameron rolled her eyes and sighed.

The team turned toward the door as one when a piercing siren filled the air. The three doctors gazed around the office, confused, and House winced, turning his head to the side, trying to block out the noise.

Outside of the glass window various nurses and doctors were flitting about franticly, grabbing papers and shuffling patients down the hall, concerned and panicked looks on their faces.

A moment later the door swung open and Cuddy marched in, her face twisted with anger, her hair seeming to bristle with her fury.

"House!" she screeched, walking up to his desk and slamming her hands down onto it, leaning forward to glare at him.

"Please, keep your voice down!" he shouted to her, begging.

"You can barely hear me over the fire alarm!" she yelled instantly.

"Yeah, but your voice is more annoying than the alarm!"

The insult didn't even seem to register with her. She pointed at him, her finger barely an inch from his chest. "This isn't funny House! The lounge has been set on fire! God knows you've acted destructive to hospital property in the past but you've gone too far this time!"

House seemed surprised, his mouth popping open to gape at her. "I didn't do it!" he protested.

She laughed, obviously not believing his claim. "House," she said, smiling at him, " It has to be you."

"Well, no," he replied slowly, "It doesn't. Besides if I was going to set something in this hospital on fire it would be your office."

He smiled cheerfully at her and she frowned, momentarily contemplating his answer.

"You are going to be suspended for three weeks if you're lying to me." she told him before spinning around to glare down his team. "And you three! We're evacuating this whole floor so you are to help escort patients down to the lobby and keep them calm. And--" she finished, turning back to House, "-- you are going help as well."

He nodded earnestly but when she turned her back his face fell into a scowl.

"We have fire extinguishers. Why don't we try to contain the fire until the police get here instead of worrying the patients and pushing them away from their rooms?" Cameron asked.

"We would," Cuddy said through gritted teeth, " but someone took all the fire extinguishers and no one can find them."

She shot House a look and he gave her a small wave, grinning.

"Now everybody, help. Come on," she instructed, waving Foreman, Chase, and Cameron out in front of her. They shuffled out the door obediently and Cuddy turned to House a final time, giving him a hard stare.

She followed out the door and House waited a moment, staring into space as though debating something before pushing his chair away from his desk, limping to and out the door.

Left on his desk, a piece of paper fluttered gently for a moment from the air conditioning before settling back into place. From the top of the paper the words 'Notice!' were displayed in large black letters followed by a blown up picture of a man with white makeup smeared across his face, his black rimmed eyes staring to the camera with a malicious glint reflecting in their brown depths, his painted red mouth pulled up at the corners.

He looked like he was smiling, laughing at a joke that only he understood.

* * *

House made his way down the now nearly deserted hallway, the piercing alarm still ringing through the building.

He pushed the door to his patient's room open, his eyes falling on Hannah's bed.

He froze, the door closing behind him as he took in the scene before him.

A man dressed in a white doctor's coat was perched at the edge of the girl's bed, a black cap pulled down low on his head. His arm was extended, holding a small knife to Hannah's throat.

The little girl's eyes were wide as she stared at House pleadingly, her small frame shaking. Tears filled her eyes as the knife pressed against her skin, a bead of blood welling up.

"Well," the figure drawled, lifting his head up, his painted black eyes locking with House's piercing blue gaze, "you must be Doctor House."

He licked the side of his lips, his tongue passing over one of his scars, before smiling.

* * *

_Yay. Another one done. 's being a pain right now._

_What I was listening to: Mega64 pod cast 108_

_Review! Or I'll set the Joker on you ;)_


	7. Everybody Dies

_I'm sorry tis is coming up so late but I forgot what day it was. Unbelievable I know. Some of you may have noticed that the rating for this story changed. There is a good reason for that. **You have been warned.**_

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* * *

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House froze, icy blue eyes taking in the scene before him.

Hannah trembled, a whimper pushing past her bloodless lips as her eyes begged for help. The man barely gave her a glance before fixing his full attention on House, lifting both eyebrows questioningly and cocking his head as though to say 'what will you do now?'

House stepped forward to Hannah's bed but the man smiled, pressing the knife persistently against the girl's throat until a dark red line was visible beneath the cold silver. "Ah, ah, ah."

The man stared pointedly at the chair beside her bed before staring at House once more and, with a sigh, House sank into the seat, wary eyes tracking each subtle movement the other man made.

"I assume you're the idiot everyone's looking for? 'The Joker?'"House scoffed. "You know, if the police were looking for me, I wouldn't be out in public. Hospitals, schools, police stations; generally places you want to avoid."

The Joker turned his head, regarding House through squinted eyes as though he were an interesting puzzle before smiling. It was not a reassuring gesture.

"I have a _thing_ about hospitals," he replied, dark eyes glittering with amusement and insanity. "Now, let's get down to business."

House cocked an eyebrow. "We have business?"

The Joker nodded seriously. "We have a scheduled appointment, Dr. House. It's a shame you were late but there's no help for that."

He reached into the pocket of his white coat and withdrew a manila folder, holding it up so it was plain to see. Hannah sniffed nervously and shrunk back into her pillows, looking for all the world as though she were trying to disappear.

"I've read your file. And you know, we're a lot alike," he said slowly, his voice strangely light.

"I don't think so. Clowns are just glorified drag queens as far as I'm concerned."

A frown marred the Joker's face for an instant, pulling the scars down and drawing attention to his brown eyes before he was smiling again, strangely cheerful.

"It says here," he continued, " that you don't play well with others. I'm a bit of a loner myself. And we are so. Very. Much. Alike. I've watched your little team, your so called 'colleagues' and 'boss'. And I've heard them snicker when your back is turned. Seen them disobey all your orders and shoot down your theories. Heard them talk about you as though you were an annoying puppy. 'What has he done this time?' they all ask."

He paused, licking one corner of his mouth. " Because they don't expect anything better from you. But they still expect you to follow all of their careful little rules. You see, to them you're just a freak. Like me. Someone they'll tolerate but throw under the bus as soon as they need to. It's human nature."

As the Joker continued to speak he didn't seem to notice House slowly slide his hand across his lap and into his pocket.

* * *

The nurse at the workstation snatched up the phone at it's first ring and held it to her ear, waiting for the usual questions about work hours and scheduling she had to deal with on a daily basis.

She realized immediately that this wasn't her usual phone call.

For a moment she could hear nothing save for the rustling of cloth and considered hanging up and writing it off as a prank phone call, which she'd been receiving with increasing regularity over the past few days, but then a voice came on, light and somehow serious at the same time and she strained to hear more of it.

"_You wanna know how I got these scars?"_

Another gruffer voice answered and she immediately recognized Doctor House.

"_**I really don't think you want to compare scar stories. Mine would kick yours in the ass."**_

A disjointed laugh sounded, chilling and dark.

"_I was in med school, studying hard; dreaming of the doctor I would become some day. There was a guy in my class named Jim. Now Jim never liked the fact that I made better grades than him. Was one of those people that have to have everything perfect. Perfect grades, perfect girlfriend, perfect life. And I was getting better scores than him."_

There was a small whimper and then, a moment later a muffled scream and and a small gasp, more like a swift intake of breath, could be heard.

"_Now one day Jim snaps and kills his girlfriend. He doesn't show up to school the next day. He brakes into my apartment and waits for me. He'd decided that because I didn't fit into his perfect life he was going to cut me out of it. He held the knife to my mouth and started laughing. 'Why so serious?' he asked. I never laughed a lot before then. Oh no, was too 'serious' for that. But now I see the irony of it. Now I can laugh."_

The nurse jumped when Cuddy leaned over to take a file from off the desk. Something on her face must have given away that something was wrong because Cuddy paused and asked, "Everything okay?"

She shook her head frantically, miming with one hand to keep silent.

But nothing more was heard except heavy breathing.

"Dr. House?" she whispered fearfully.

The line went so quiet that for a moment she thought the phone had gone dead but then that terrible laugh started again.

"_You didn't tell me we had an audience. Whatever happened to patient/doctor confidentiality?"_

The line went dead.

The nurse looked up and in a flat voice, probably due to shock, said, "It's House."

* * *

The Joker applied more pressure to Hannah's throat and a wet tearing pop was heard as a small hole appeared in her skin. Her eyes bulged and her torso bucked once before her eyes fluttered closed and her body slumped back to the bed. She had fainted.

The Joker stared pointedly at House's pocket where a tinny small voice had questioned _'Dr. House?' _not a moment before. House reluctantly dug the phone out and put it in the Joker's waiting hand.

The phone hit the wall with a _bang_ a second later.

"You put too much stock into normalcy, Doctor House. You hate it but you still live by it. All those restricting rules and falsities that _society_ thrust upon us. Without chaos there is no perfect life, as Jim taught me."

The glass door slid open and Wilson walked in, his face tired and voice exasperated as he talked, 'House, you know Cuddy said we need you down stairs--"

His mouth snapped shut as his eyes fixed on Hannah's bed and the man sitting on it.

The Joker grinned, seemingly delighted at this turn of events.

He reached into his jacket and out came a handgun, which was pointed with deadly accuracy at Wilson's heart an instant later.

"Ah. Doctor...Wilson, was it? This is a private appointment."

Three things happened simultaneously then.

Hannah opened her eyes and gave a weak gasp as the Joker stared House straight in the eye and said "Upset the established order." and the knife sliced through skin and muscle. Hannah gave a gurgled scream as both hands flew to her sliced neck.

House lunged for the Joker and whether he was trying to wrestle either the knife or the gun away from the madman it was unclear because he never made it. The knife hovered just under his own throat now as Hannah took once last rattling breath and fell silent.

Wilson took a step back and the Joker pulled the trigger, the resounding shot echoing in the room.

* * *

_Oh no poor Wilson! Is he gonna be okay? You'll find out :)_

_Review please_

_Song I was listening to: Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas_


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